


And Yet I Weep

by samuelbyrnes



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Season/Series 08 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12749895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samuelbyrnes/pseuds/samuelbyrnes
Summary: He should've said something to his people; should've told them about their battles, their wins, their terrible loss. His arrogance and surety had cost them greatly and now, he must bear that.





	And Yet I Weep

**Author's Note:**

> In response to Episode 4. A little "what happens after" kind of thing, y'know? Also, I have no idea if the characterizations are right, but I tried. ._.

He should've said something to his people; should've told them about their battles, their wins, their terrible loss. His arrogance and surety had cost them greatly and now, he must bear that. The shame that courses through him powers him through to his quarters, eating away at him as he methodically undresses with shaking fingers and unsteady legs. He lets each article of armor and clothing drop carelessly to the ground, dropping gracelessly into a chair with a hiss so he can remove his boots, socks, and shin guards. He wiggles out of his pants, twisting his leg to stare at the wound, still bleeding sluggishly.

He should probably get that cleaned up and dressed. 

Relaxing his leg, he sighs and stares at the wall before him, unmoving for some time. He hears footsteps in the hallway, turning his head slowly to see Jerry in the doorway; seeming fresh from bathing, a solemn look in his eyes. 

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," he says. 

Ezekiel simply turns to stare at the wall again, jaw tight and shoulders tense. Jerry slowly enters the room, walking up and crouching in front of Ezekiel, head tilted, cautious. 

"It's not your fault, you know," he says. "No one could've predicted what happened today." 

"And yet I'm the one who led them there," Ezekiel rasps, swallowing. "I'm the one who threw caution to the wind and acted so arrogantly. Therefore, it's on me to bear the fault, and their loss." 

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, sir," Jerry says. "You didn't know; how could you? Arrogance has nothing to do with that." He waits, then sighs when Ezekiel remains silent, standing and tapping the man's knee, causing him to look up. "You ought to wash up. Warm water and clean clothes might not seem like much, but it can actually go a long way to making you feel better." He quirks a smile, trying for levity. 

His smile falters when Ezekiel shrugs and looks away, a faraway look in his eyes. Jerry tilts his head, then nods to himself; gently taking one of Ezekiel's hand and tugging, smiling when Ezekiel turns to him again, brow furrowed. 

"If you won't do it yourself, there's always someone to help," Jerry says simply, tugging at the man's hand again. 

It takes some poking and prodding, but Jerry gets Ezekiel cleaned up and back in his room. He's pretty sure one of them will feel embarrassed about it later, but it's not something to dwell on at the moment, not when his King can barely stand on his own. He reassures everyone he comes across that Ezekiel is exhausted, but otherwise alright, that the King needs a little time to sort his thoughts before addressing his people. He feels confident enough to tell them a little of what happened, why it was only the three of them that came back. He can see the grief and anger on a number of faces and he hopes everything turns out smooth in the end. He runs into Carol while gathering dinner for Ezekiel, giving the woman a smile as she walks up to him. 

"How is he?" she asks. 

Jerry half-shrugs. "Hard to tell," he replies, glancing at Carol briefly. "He blames himself for what happened." 

"He shouldn't," Carol says, tilting her head. "It's not like he knew what was going to happen." 

"That's what I told him," Jerry says, frowning. "He didn't believe me." 

"I'd be surprised if he did," Carol says, glancing down at the tray Jerry's assembling, a thoughtful look on her face before she nods and takes the tray from him, shaking her head when he tries protesting. "You've done your part, let me do mine." 

Jerry tries again, to no avail, backing down when Carol scowls at him. He turns to leave, half-turning back around to quietly thank her before walking off, his own tray of food in his hands. Carol watches him go with a confused sort of furrow to her face before she shakes herself and heads for Ezekiel's quarters. She gives the closed door a cursory knock before letting herself in, looking around the dimly lit area, pausing briefly upon seeing Ezekiel huddled on the bed. She gives him a small smile when he turns glassy eyes on her, holding up the tray as she makes her way over. 

"Figured you might be hungry," she says, putting the tray down on the night stand. "Or, if you're not, you should still eat something. Get your strength back." 

She watches Ezekiel grimace, swallowing thickly, then shaking his head, looking away. She rolls her eyes and turns, starting to walk out when she hears a strangled sort of sobbing sound. She stops and turns back, watching Ezekiel furiously rubbing at his eyes, lips twisted into a deep frown, body shaking. She bites her lip, debating for a moment, then walks back up to his bed, sitting herself down by his side. Ezekiel turns away from her, shaking his head. 

"Leave," he rasps, wiping at his eyes again. "Let me weep in peace." 

"I mean, if you're sure," Carol says with a shrug, "but something tells me that's the last thing you want." She scoots closer when Ezekiel remains quiet. "What happened today isn't your fault. Yes, we could've used more caution, but that's not on you or anyone else." She takes his hand, smiling gently when he turns to her. "What happened to Shiva isn't your fault, either. She was only doing what she knew best, and that was keeping you safe." 

Carol watches Ezekiel's lip tremble, tears streaking down his face, his arms coming up wrap around her as he awkwardly leans into her space to bury his face in her neck. Carol climbs completely on the bed, mindful of her boots, wrapping her arms around Ezekiel as the man all but crawls into her lap and breaks down sobbing. She brings one hand up to his nape, gently squeezing while pressing her cheek to the top of his head with a soft sigh. As her shirt dampens with the King's tears, she can't help but wonder about the next step, of what new horrors might be around the corner, and if Ezekiel will be able to handle it. 

_Not alone,_ she thinks, holding the man tight as he shakes in her lap. _Not after today; never again._


End file.
